Poem by Ada Jill Schneider
Written for the Azorean Synagogue Event
Genesis 28: 10-17
On his journey to Haran,
when the sun was set,
our ancestor Jacob
stopped for the night.
He rested his head
upon a stone and had a dream:
a vision of angels going up
and down a ladder
between heaven and earth,
and of God standing above.
He awoke in awe and said,
This is none other
than the house of God,
Beit El,
and this is the gate to heaven,
Sha’ar haShamayim.
We are in the house of God,
Temple Beth El,
speaking of the gate to heaven,
Sahar Hassamain.
We are in Fall River
thinking of Ponta Delgada,
of red velvet Torah covers,
and filigree crowns,
of Espirito Santo and common roots,
of those who came before us,
of what might have been,
and of what yet might be.
